


In Which Erik Haunts Someone He Used to Know

by chaoticbeing



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Angst, Loss of Mutation, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 04:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17053505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticbeing/pseuds/chaoticbeing
Summary: The idea of losing someone is difficult to handle by itself, but also knowing that the same someone has lost part of their entire self can't leave Erik.





	In Which Erik Haunts Someone He Used to Know

    You look at him and a flood of memories come crashing back.

    He glances at you and he doesn’t know you.

    Along with the memories, there are too many emotions for you to handle in that moment. You almost get overwhelmed, and in any other situation, something would’ve been crushed.

    You can’t do that right now, given that you’re on the sidewalk of a square.

    Anger. Obvious anger that you can pinpoint exactly. Grief and anger. Enough grief for your chest to seize up.

    Enough anger that you took it out on Charles. Demanding to know why, why this had happened, why this had happened to him.

    Charles said it was for the best and that it was his choice. ‘Reintegration.’ That no one knew that what was going to happen was going to happen.

    That David was going to lose his memories. Everything that had happened for the past two years concerning him, concerning Charles, concerning the academy, gone.

    It hurts. It hurts way too much for it to vocalised. You had already crushed anything that would work in your office once the news finally sunk in.

    David was gone.

    Your first plan, knowing this might happen, involved David being gone in a way that you could take revenge on. Destroying everything in your path to kill the person who would kill him.

    This was never taken into account. You never considered that it would be something David would do to himself. That he would consent to, that he wanted to happen.

    Charles told you to leave it be. His voice sounded like it was hurting too.

    You said you would, but somehow, you haven’t.

    He comes to this square every Thursday afternoon when the weather is cooling down, and he comes with two of his friends, and they wander around the square and go into shops and talk like they had known each other for their whole lives.

    Charles accuses you of stalking David. You aren’t stalking him. You don’t follow him around the square. You stay in one place, smoking a cigarette occasionally, giving the rest out to people who ask. You stand watch for about an hour, then leave.

    It would be stalking if you followed him around the corner, or after he leaves your line of sight.

    “This isn’t stalking,” you told Charles. This is how you cope.

    There he is, with his friends again. Two girls, about his height, both peppy and colourful and looking out of a fashion magazine. Overalls and bell-bottom jeans, brightly coloured shirts and skirts.

    The first time you saw David dressed like that, with overalls and a red-collared shirt, it took you a second. You were only used to the clothes that Charles had decided to put him in. Clothing soft enough that it wouldn’t irritate the plethora of bruises he had. Greys and blues.

    He looks amazing in warm tones.

    Something new happens when you finish calming yourself down the best you can.

    David was walking over. He was being followed by his friends, but he was walking over. After a second he waved them off. He comes over to you. 

    Now he’s standing in front of you with his hand held out and a friendly smile and you have to quickly remind yourself that this is real.

    “hey, i’ve seen you around the square sometimes. ‘m david.”

    He introduces himself and his voice sounds almost exactly the same. The only difference is that he no longer sounds worn down, or tired. His voice matches his age.

    You take his hand and shake it. Your grip may be a little too firm.

    “There’s some interesting shops down here. Erik.”

    “with a c or a k?”

    The question makes you need to clear your head. He’s asked you that before. With the same smile that shows he meant no offense.

    “What do you think?” You dare to ask. As if he would remember such a small detail, if he couldn’t even remember you as a person. Remember your relationship.

    “you seem like an erik with a k.”

    He laughs.

    His laugh sounds the same. You can barely process what’s going on, completely going on autopilot. Your hand moves from shaking- holding- his, and resting in your pocket.

    “You’d be right.”

    His eyes. They’re not the same. They’re a mix of green and blue and grey, human, not the same as they used to be. They used to be just grey.

    They used to be just grey, and when other people fronted, they filled with brilliant colours. Shades of lilac or bright green or golds. The grey eyes looked empty, but they held his soul.

    A soul.

    ...

    You sound like Charles. 

    Does he still have that? Is he still the same? He doesn’t have the coping system he used to. He doesn’t have the people in him that both interested and terrified the people who knew him.

    It hits you in the ribs realising that his mutation is useless.

    How could a husk be smiling, could be wearing such warm clothing, with red cheeks from the cold. With two friends, with the feeling of love still surrounding him. He was still a husk.

    The reintegration took everything from him. Everything that made up his personality, made up his life experiences, the past years that completely changed him, making him from a timid, shaking child to a warm man that you had fallen in love with.

    Then did nothing about.

    “are you okay?” His voice had pitched from friendly to concerned. Was it obvious how deep in thought you were?

    “Yes, I’m fine. You remind me of someone I knew.” It’s the truth and it stings as it leaves your mouth. Knew.

    “oh, well, are you gonna be here in like…. fifteen minutes? my friends and i are going to the pizza place nearby for food. you could come along if you’d wanna.”

    “Are you sure?”

    “you seem lonely. if you’re a creep we’ll just bounce and leave you the check,” He’s serious. But this is still extremely trustworthy of him, and you’d feel something about it, but you’ve used up all your stored emotions for the day when he first started talking to you. He’s serious but he’s smiling.

    “I don’t think I can.” The words leave your mouth without a filter. You process your tone as worn and tired, like you had just cried. But you hadn’t.

    “alright,” His tone is disappointed, but David gives you that same smile. Letting you know everything was okay. The memories you have associated with that smile are too many to count.

    With that, he waves, and walks off. Back to his friends, the friends he remembers, the friends he cares about. You have a fleeting moment of guilt not accepting his offer.

    But what good would it do you? It’d be a meal of suppressed emotions, with two girls you have no idea who are.

    You light another cigarette and watch as he leaves your line of sight.


End file.
